Compromising the Marquess

by Wendy Soliman

  “Don’t know why Morris didn’t venture forth,” Parsons said without preamble. “There was a lot more activity than usual, even after business hours, so I suppose that would explain it. Word must have spread about his services.”

  “You did finally get in there I take it?”

  “Course we did. It wasn’t any trouble finding his secrets either.” Parsons rolled his eyes. “People are so predictable. A loose floorboard in his bedroom concealed a tin box.”

  “And you brought me its contents?”

  “Naturally.” Parsons withdrew a thick sheaf of papers from the inside of his coat and handed them to Hal.

  “Thank you.” Hal scanned them quickly. They were a veritable gold mine of information, containing details of all the blackmail the weasel had ever carried out. Interesting, but not what Hal was looking for. His patience was finally rewarded when he found receipts for Leah’s father’s books, one of them signed by Hal’s secretary.

  “Thank you, Parsons.” Hal paced the room, thinking fast. He would like to have Morris brought to him immediately after the ball to account for his actions and to make restitution to Leah, but his first priority had to be Jean-Philippe. If his father’s murderer was apprehended tonight then Hal would be required in London. Nothing took priority over that. “Stay ready to bring Morris to me as soon as I send you word.”

  “Very good, m’lord.”

  Hal rang for Potter, who appeared to escort Parsons out. Hal himself then headed for the drawing room. Both of his brothers were already there but he barely had an opportunity to greet them before the ladies made their entrance. Hal’s eyes immediately sought out Leah. He felt extreme satisfaction as he saw the diamond combs nestled in her hair. He also felt relieved at the nature of her attire. Her gown was the perfect colour for her and the tight sheath flowed elegantly over her figure, displaying its curves to their best advantage before billowing into ruffled skirts that whispered about her legs.

  His relief was attributable to the neckline. It was respectably high, helping to keep his mind off the pretty breasts concealed beneath it. Then she turned sideways and his muttered curses caused everyone in the room to glance his way. The gown completely bared her back in a manner ten times more sensuous than something as obvious as revealed bosom. Hal simply stared at her, unable to help himself.

  “Ladies,” Rob said, showing a degree more composure than Hal could muster. “Have we been introduced? Has anyone seen my tiresome little sister anywhere about?”

  Everyone laughed and it broke the tension. Potter circulated with a tray of drinks, affording Hal an opportunity to regain control of himself. Against his better judgement, he continued to frequently glance Leah’s way. He couldn’t do much about that but had better fortune with his voice. Apart from bidding her a curt “good evening,” he had yet to address a single remark to her.

  There being only six of them present, his incivility was in danger of becoming obvious. His siblings were used to his introspective moods, and probably thought nothing of it, but such self-indulgence really wouldn’t do when they had guests. Thus recalled to his duty, when dinner was announced he offered his arm to Leah.

  “I wouldn’t burden you with my company, my lord,” she said tartly.

  Ouch, he’d deserved that. “But you deprive me of the pleasure of it instead?”

  “There’s no need to be gallant,” she said in an undertone. “I perfectly understand your repulsion and don’t blame you for it.”

  “Repulsion?” What in the deuce was she talking about?

  “You know very well what I refer to,” she said, colour invading her cheeks.

  “The others are staring,” he pointed out, still holding out his arm. With patent reluctance, she placed her hand on it. “Shall we wipe the slate clean and start again?”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I fail to see why not.”

  She moved into step with him as he led her to the table. “Well, I—”

  “That gown is a triumph,” he said softly as he held out the chair on his right-hand side and waited for her to arrange her skirts to her satisfaction. The process didn’t detain her for long. “You are to be congratulated.”

  “Thank you. Your insistence upon it will probably bankrupt me.”

  “But you will still enjoying wearing it.” He waved a hand. “Don’t bother to deny it. It shows in your face.”

  “Is Jean-Philippe safely installed?” she asked in an obviously deliberate change of subject.

  “He is indeed.” Hal sighed. “Now we must wait.”

  “And have all the suspects accepted your invitation to the ball?”

  “Only two of them.”

  “So, presumably you have absolved the other two from blame.”

  “Yes, if they’re connected, I fail to see how.”

  “Now that the time has come, will you tell me whom you suspect?” she asked in an undertone. “I might be able to help keep watch on them.”

  “Lord Phillips and Sir Michael Humphrey,” Hal said grimly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You obviously look upon them both as friends, which must make it difficult for you.”

  Hal let out a long sigh. “You’re right but I’m resigned to the possibility that one of them might be a traitor.”

  “Enough of this glum subject,” she said in a light tone. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “With the greatest of pleasure.” He offered her a charmingly correct smile. “Tell me, Miss Elliott, what brings you to this part of the world.”

  She burst out laughing and suddenly the tension between them evaporated.

  * * *

  The suspects’ names meant nothing to Leah but she stored them away in her memory, determined to identify those two individuals as soon as she could. In the meantime she tried not to stare at Hal, her lethally handsome Viking with his swarthy complexion and penetrating brown eyes, as he waged a charm campaign to win her approval for reasons only he understood.

  She tried to remain immune but before the meal had even started she was already fighting a losing battle. She looked to the others for a diversion but there was none to be had. Beth and Lord Gabriel were talking quietly to one another, oblivious to the rest of them. Flick and her brother Robert seemed to be bickering about Flick’s continued interest in Darius Grantley.

  “You will have to make do with my poor company,” Hal said with a languid smile.

  Silky blond hair fell across his brow as he leaned towards her, and she was hard-pressed not to reach out and push it back in place. Something in his complacent expression told her that he knew it, which vexed her. It was enough that she’d earned his derision through actions driven because she was unable to quell her passion. She wouldn’t have him think that her interest in him ran deeper than that.

  There was something different about him tonight. He was preoccupied but trying not to show it. Well, of course he was! She was in a dudgeon because she felt neglected, whilst Hal had far weightier matters on his mind. If all went to plan, someone he had known and trusted for a long time would be branded a traitor and murderer before the night was out.

  If the plan went awry, the brave young Frenchman currently quartered in the old nursery could finish up dead. The burden of responsibility he bore might well be too heavy, even for his broad shoulders. Leah wanted to reach out and touch him, tell him she understood, and apologize for her self-absorption.

  His attention was briefly diverted by Flick calling upon him to support her defence of Grantley. Leah observed the casual affection with which he deflected that request and died a little inside. Somehow, without her even realizing it had happened, she’d lost all touch with reality and recklessly fallen deeply and desperately in love with this suave, highly intelligent, compellingly complex aristocrat. It was most irksome and highly improper. If Lord Gabriel stood too high on society’s ladder for Beth, any aspirations she might have fleetingly entertained about Hal Forster were just plain ridiculous.

&
nbsp; Leah gave herself a mental shake and turned to address a remark to Lord Robert, seated on her other side. Thus the meal passed in a blur. The ladies didn’t withdraw since, when it ended, the first guests were already making their way up the long driveway.

  “Come on then, Hal,” Flick said, standing. “Time to do your duty.”

  Leah and Beth excused themselves. By the time they made their way to the ballroom, it was already filling up, Hal and Flick standing together at the head of the stairs to greet their guests. Unfortunately almost the first person Leah saw was her aunt, already well into a glass of champagne. She beckoned them over and she and Beth had no choice but to attend her.

  “Well, girls,” she said. “What an evening this will be. I am pleased to see you so respectably turned out, although how you can afford it when you’re living on your uncle’s charity is a mystery to me. Still, I’m pleased that your intimacy with Lady Felicity has got you both noticed.” She appeared almost cordial, for once. “This reminds me of when I was a girl. I attended assemblies like this all the time in London.”

  Leah and Beth exchanged a brief glance. Their aunt considered that she’d married beneath herself, which accounted for her bitterness. Sir Percy didn’t have a town house and actively disliked society.

  “Did you dance with anyone well-known when you attended those soirees, aunt?” Beth asked.

  “Well, actually, yes I did.” Aunt Augusta reached behind her to place her now-empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and grabbed a new one. At the same time she caught sight of Leah’s naked back and gasped. “What the devil do you think you’re about, girl?”

  Leah refrained from rolling her eyes. Just for a moment there, her aunt had almost revealed a more pleasant aspect to her character. “I’m not sure I—”

  “You have ideas above your station, but it won’t serve.” She paused to draw a furious breath. “You will leave the gatehouse by the end of the month. I won’t have you disgrace me in such a fashion. Besides, if you can enjoy such finery, you don’t need your uncle’s help to make your way in the world.”

  With that she tottered away, leaving the girls gaping in her wake.

  “Well, we were going to return to London, weren’t we?” Beth stole a quick glance at Lord Gabriel, who chose that moment to approach and request her hand for the first dance.

  “We are now,” Leah muttered beneath her breath as Lord Gabriel excused himself and swept Beth away.

  Leah too was much in demand when the dancing started. She barely remembered the names of her partners, nor what she spoke to them about. All the time she kept a surreptitious watch on Hal, who had yet to dance, despite being besieged by a plethora of matrons with young daughters in tow, principally Lady Bentley. He prowled the circumference of the ballroom, frequently exchanging a word or two with the footmen set to watch the two suspects. Was she the only person who could sense the charged atmosphere? It was a waiting game and she knew, deep within her core, that something decisive would happen before the sun rose.

  The musicians struck up a waltz, which was Leah’s cue to leave the ballroom. She had no desire to waltz with anyone, except the one person forbidden to her. She would use the time to do a little sleuthing of her own, and see if she could detect anything odd in the behaviour of Hal’s suspects. The culprit might be wary of his lordship but they would never suspect her. It was a situation that cried out for a woman’s touch.

  Before she could put her plan into action a large hand came to rest on the small of her bare back.

  “My dance, I believe,” Hal said in a deep, persuasive drawl.

  “You ought to dance with someone more suitable,” she said primly.

  “And I’ve told you before, in my own house I do as I please.”

  “I doubt that tenet is restricted to your own house,” she said archly, swinging into his arms anyway, aware of half the eyes in the room focused on them with varying degrees of interest.

  “You’re probably right about that.” He offered her a tender smile that literally made her toes curl inside her slippers and her heart to do a strange little flip inside her chest.

  They moved smoothly into step with one another. Leah was unable to disguise her pleasure at the honour he’d bestowed upon her, hard though she tried. His dancing was superb and it felt as though her feet floated above the floor, following effortlessly where his led.

  “Are you good at absolutely everything you do?” she asked, intimidated by his proficiency.

  “So I’m told.”

  She was about to berate him when she looked up and saw laughter in his eyes. “You wretch! You’re teasing me.”

  He laughed harder, tightening his hold on her waist. “You’re an easy person to tease.”

  “I’m glad I supply you with such good sport,” she said, inverting her chin, wondering if she could have worded that less ambiguously. Any reference to their previous activities, however oblique, now caused her great embarrassment.

  “You supply me with a great many things, my dear, but sport isn’t one of them.”

  “Lady Bentley is glaring at us,” she told him. “So too is my aunt.”

  “Lady Bentley and your aunt would do well to mind their own business.”

  She was about to tell him that she was her aunt’s business and that said aunt had, in a fit of jealous rage, just made her homeless. In the end she didn’t do so. It would sound as though she was asking for his help, which she most certainly was not.

  All too soon the dance came to an end and it was almost time for the supper interval. Hal’s attention was taken up by one of his guests so Leah wandered alone on to the terrace, requiring a moment’s solitude and fresh air. She leaned on the balustrade, breathing deeply, trying to think about anything other than Hal Forster. So hard was she concentrating on her efforts that it was a moment before she realised someone had called her name. She glanced about but the terrace was completely empty. Shaking her head, she decided she must have imagined it.

  But no. There it was again.

  “Miss Elliott. Over here.”

  Without thought for the consequences, she followed the direction of the voice. Perhaps one of the outside guards needed an urgent word with Hal but couldn’t enter the ballroom. She had spent most of her waking hours on this estate over the past ten days, and many of the staff now knew her by name. She turned a corner, looked into an alcove where she thought the voice had come from.

  “Is there anyone there?” she asked.

  She received no response. About to walk away, she sensed a presence behind her. Her skin prickled and she was suddenly afraid. Hal had warned her not to wander outside alone but she hadn’t taken his warning seriously. No one was interested in her.

  She realised how wrong she was to think so when a hand was clamped over her mouth and a dark sack was pulled over her head. Before she knew what was happening, or could do anything to defend herself, she was almost swept from her feet and spirited away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hal so enjoyed his dance with Leah that he let his guard down and was immediately swamped by guests requiring his attention. He had no choice but to exchange a few words with each of them. He then checked with Rob and was told that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

  “We’d best leave Jean-Philippe safely upstairs until the supper interval is well under way,” he said. “Not much longer now.”

  “You still think the killer will be dressed as a guest?”

  “Yes, I do. Jean-Philippe wouldn’t be expected to go anywhere near the servants’ quarters, and so the servant will need to mingle with the intention of isolating Jean-Philippe.”

  “Not as difficult as it sounds, given the noise level in this place and the constant flow of bodies,” Rob said, nodding his agreement. “Let me know when you want him down then.”

  Hal kept a weather eye on the two suspects just the same and avoided any female who might trap him into dancing. So far Phillips and Humphrey hadn’t done anything to draw attentio
n to themselves. Not that he’d really expected them to. The traitor was cautious and would leave the dangerous stuff to his minions.

  It was now the supper interval and Hal set out to look for Leah, meaning to escort her in, but she was nowhere to be found. Annoyed to see Lady Bentley bearing down on him, he quickly made himself scarce. Still no sign of Leah and a feeling of deep unease trickled through his spine.

  “Have you seen Leah anywhere?” Flick asked, moving to join him at the edge of the supper room. “I was hoping to persuade her to sing before the dancing recommences.”

  Hal’s feeling of unease increased. “I thought she was with you,” he said.

  “No, nor is she with Beth.” She nodded to the other side of the room where Beth and Gabriel were taking supper together. “And I very much doubt that she would voluntarily throw herself into her aunt’s company.” Flick shrugged. “She’s proved popular with the gentlemen this evening but I doubt that she would—”

  “When did you see her last?”

  “Well, I noticed her going out on to the terrace after your dance.”

  Hal grasped his sister’s arm. “Did anyone follow her?”

  “Not that I noticed.” Flick frowned. “Is something wrong, Hal? You look ready to murder someone and you’re hurting me.”

  “Sorry.” Hal released her. “Everything’s fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Hal set off for the terrace, Flick at his heels. “Stay inside.”

  Flick continued to dog his footsteps, throwing questions at him. When she was obliged to pause and answer a question someone else addressed to her, Hal seized the opportunity to grab Darius Grantley.

  “I have to be somewhere,” he said in an undertone. “Keep Flick occupied. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  To his credit, Darius merely raised a brow and nodded. “Will do,” he said.

  The terrace was completely deserted, everyone inside again partaking of refreshment. Hal strode its length anyway, methodical and thorough. Jean-Philippe would be getting impatient. He couldn’t ignore him for much longer. If he could just find Leah. He called her name but there was no answer. About to return to the house, he noticed something bright lying on the ground. When he bent to pick it up, his heart stalled.